Reminisces of a Golden Era
by LastChancetoBreathe
Summary: While rebuilding Cair Paravel, Caspian comes across the ancient journals of the Pevensies and learns more about the four young rulers than he ever thought possible.
1. A Bit of History

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Chronicles of Narnia_.

Just when the world of fanfiction thought I dropped off the face of the earth (and did I, for a while...), I have returned! :) The updates on this story will not be as scheduled as my last work was. Quite frankly, my schedule is too busy to allow consistent updates, but I shall try to be as faithful as possible. I will also respond to reviews in private messages as soon as I am able to, and for those of you who may review anonymously, I shall try to respond to you in future updates.

I am mainly using the books as my background, but I incorporate certain elements of the movies, such as the castle raid in _Prince Caspian_ and the description of the treasure chambers (though in my story, the chamber is not nearly as brightly lit). But there will be no such references to Caspian/Susan. They are merely friends in my story and they never kissed. And there is no slash or incest in this story.

I am quite excited about this work and I hope you all enjoy!

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**Chapter 1: A Bit of History**

As soon as Caspian saw the dismal ruins of Cair Paravel for the first time, he realized he had quite a task before him. The destruction that the catapults had wrecked on the once beautiful castle was catastrophic. Ivy, grass, and weeds now grew over what remained of the walls and floors.

But the view from on top of one of the cliffs was breathtaking. The ocean stretched out in front of him as far as he could see, dotted here and there by the formations of land that used to be connected to each other. If Caspian didn't personally know how superstitious the Telmarines were, he would wonder why they would take such great lengths to avoid such a spectacular place.

"I bet it was magnificent when it stood," a voice close to his feet broke into his thoughts.

Caspian smiled down at Trufflehunter. "I'm sure it was. It is a shame that the Telmarines destroyed it, instead of merely fixing whatever damage had been done so that they could live in it."

Trufflehunter scrunched up his nose as much as he was able to. "I think it was better off being left in ruins. No offense intended, Your Majesty."

Caspian laughed. "None taken, I understand what you mean. If my uncle's taste in furniture and decor was any indication, Cair Paravel would have been turned into a dismal place indeed. Either way, we'd have had to start over and why not start from scratch?"

The newly crowned king and the badger turned away from the beautiful panorama, facing the more daunting sight of the crumbling walls of Cair Paravel. Several Narnians were already hard at work: removing weeds here, loading up smaller rubble pieces into wagons there, and chipping the larger ruins down to a more portable size. Some of the more intact areas were going to be reinforced with newer materials so that not _all_ of the castle would be entirely new, and hence, part of Narnia's history would be preserved. Since they had no idea what the castle looked like before it was attacked, they would make do with what they could see and build something magnificent out of the ruins once more.

"Hammer and tongs!" A mildly irritated voice rose over the general clamor. Trumpkin's red head bobbed and weaved its' way towards Caspian. He came to a halt right in front of the new king and mopped at his forehead with the back of his hand before puffing, "I've been wondering where you two wandered off to. The moles and I have found something that we think will interest you."

"What is it?" asked Caspian.

Trumpkin opened his mouth to explain, but then shook his head and gestured for them to follow him. "It's easier to show than to describe."

Thoroughly intrigued now, Caspian and Trufflehunter followed the dwarf at a brisk pace, taking care to not get in anyone else's way. They passed several crumbling walls and structures before they came to a halt before one of the few intact areas of the castle: a large wall built up against the earth. It was one of the few that Caspian had planned to leave intact...only now there appeared to be a crack running from the top to the bottom of the wall and it was here where they found the moles sniffing cautiously at the crack.

"Ahem!" Trumpkin grunted to attract their attention.

The moles, five in all, jumped and spun around. Giving hasty bows to the king, the lead mole announced, "Sire! I am glad you have come! We think there is some sort of passageway down here. Or at least, this appears to be a false door of some kind."

Caspian glanced at them all with an unspoken question of _Why haven't you opened it yet?_ lingering in his eyes.

Trumpkin harrumphed again. "We thought it best to consult you first before proceeding...or, rather, give you the chance to make the discovery first."

Caspian grinned. "Well thank you, my good subjects. I should very much like to see what is behind this wall."

The moles and Trumpkin moved out of his way as he stepped over to the crack. Placing his fingers against the edge of the section that looked like it would move, he gave a gentle tug.

Nothing happened.

Trumpkin let out something that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. "Might I suggest putting a little more effort into it? The wall is old, but I don't think you'll do much harm to it by pulling on it more forcefully."

Caspian shot a withering glare at him, but did not respond. Bracing himself against the ancient flagstones under his feet, he grabbed hold of the ledge again and yanked backwards.

The ledge moved a couple of inches to the side, just enough to let out a faint musty smell. Everyone in the surrounding area exchanged excited, almost nervous, glances at this discovery.

Caspian bit his lip and pulled back on the ledge some more until it moved to create a space about the size of an average doorway. He moved up to the gap and squinted into the darkness. "There are stairs leading down." He glanced back at his subjects, who were eagerly awaiting his orders. "We'll need some torches."

"Right away, sire." Trufflehunter scrambled off to fetch some.

The musty smell was coming up strong now, mixed with a faint scent of spices and an almost magical feeling seemed to stir the hearts of everyone in the vicinity.

What was contained in this secret room? Did the Pevensies know about this room? Just thinking about the four ancient rulers and what they might have hidden in this area made Caspian's skin tingle. It was strange to think that these ruins were once the established dwelling place of the four young siblings he had met just a few months ago. It excited him to think of not only what he might find out about ancient Narnia, but also about his friends who had helped him to acquire his throne.

Trufflehunter came back at that moment, along with a couple of dwarves carrying some torches. Caspian took one for himself, as did Trumpkin. Trufflehunter and the moles were content to have none.

Caspian stepped to the edge of the doorway, but a small, rough paw stopped him in his tracks. The badger gazed up at him, "Perhaps, sire, for your own safety, one of us should go first."

As much as he hated to admit it, the king knew the creature was right and it would be best not to start an argument. "Very well then."

Trumpkin snorted. "Lucky Trufflehunter stepped in. I doubt that you would have followed that advice if it had come from me."

"Maybe...maybe not..." Caspian smirked as the red-headed dwarf brushed past him and stepped cautiously onto the first step that was visible through the doorway. He then extended one foot to test the next step, found it secure, and stepped down onto that. In this manner, the whole troop of dwarves, moles, badger, and king made their way down the small staircase into a passageway. They traversed this just as cautiously, but Trumpkin suddenly came to an abrupt halt, causing Caspian to bump into him.

"Beards and bedsteads! If I am not very much mistaken, I think we've stumbled upon the treasure room of the Pevensies!"

"How do you-" Caspian's question trailed off as he held his torch up and got his first glimpse of the room.

Gold and silver sparkled, gems shone, and armor twinkled all around the area. Massive figurines stood next to piles of silverware; tiny pieces of jewelry lay on top of lion-crested shields; and in four alcoves stood likenesses of the four rulers of Narnia, each with a chest at their feet.

Caspian didn't realize his mouth was open until Trufflehunter nudged him from behind, causing him to close it with a sharp _click_.

The badger spoke up, "Sire? Are we going to proceed?"

"Of...of course. Trumpkin, lead the way."

The dwarf grunted and directed them to some steps that led down to the main area of the treasure room. Using the same precautions as before, they descended into the chamber and began to set their torches into the rusted torch holders scattered throughout various parts of the room. As more and more light brightened the area, Caspian was astonished to discover all of the wealth accumulated down here.

But more than all of the riches, what really drew the king's attention were the figurines of the rulers during what must have been the height of their reign, for they were all much older looking than the children he had met only a short while ago. Peter looked like he had grown into a strong, confident king- he expected no less from him. Susan appeared to have lived up to the beauty her youthful face had promised even from a young age. Edmund was not as broad as his brother, but whoever had carved the figurines had done a careful job of capturing the keen, earnest expression of the younger king's face. And Lucy, though not quite as beautiful as her sister, had a charming attractiveness to her that made Caspian want to smile.

"Sire?"

Caspian came out of his reflections, only just now realizing that his subjects had been trying to get his attention for quite a while. "Yes?"

"Shall we begin bringing these treasures to the surface to be transported to your castle for safekeeping?" Trufflehunter's earnest face stared up at him.

"Yes, yes, of course! But be as gentle as possible, I highly doubt that many of these articles have been touched, let alone _moved_, in centuries." The very thought, even as he spoke it, made his head spin.

"Well I know that some things have been touched recently," Trumpkin interposed as he pointed a gnarly finger at one of the walls.

Caspian followed the direction he was pointing in until he saw two prongs sticking out of the wall. From the way the dust had settled around the prongs, he could see the shape of a sword that used to hang there. A smile came unbidden to his face. "So _that's_ how Peter got Rhindon."

"And how Lucy got her cordial and Susan, her bow and arrows." The dwarf gestured to a couple more empty prongs on the wall.

"How strange..." Caspian murmured.

"What?"

"To be in the centuries old treasure room of four royals that we met only a few short months ago."

"Don't think too much about it...you'll lose your mind," Trumpkin advised as he tromped over to the chest lying at the feet of Lucy's figurine. He gazed sadly at the figure for a moment. "I bet she was an extraordinary queen."

"I'm sure she was." Caspian himself moved over to Peter's chest and gingerly lifted up the lid. "What does a High King keep in his secret chest, I wonder?"

Much to his disappointment, the first few items that he carefully removed from the chest were clothes. All of them were finely crafted, to be sure, but he was hoping for something a little more exciting. Once the clothing was removed, he found a few vaguely interesting trinkets: a small, elaborately carved dagger, a couple of elegantly transcribed invitations, an embroidered sack of some sort. After these, he uncovered a few charcoal drawings signed by Lucy that he found to be particularly interesting.

The first drawing showed Susan sitting in a window, sewing. The next portrayed Edmund sprawled on the ground, reading a book. Another one pictured Peter sitting at a table, writing. The last drawing showed all four siblings sitting in front of a fire, enjoying some sort of beverage. All of them drawn when the Pevensies were young- probably during the first few years of their reign.

Caspian stared at these images for a while, studying the seemingly everyday activities of the Pevensie children, drawn by the skillful hand of the youngest sibling. Finally, he set these aside and peered into the bottom of the chest. Nothing more was to be found except for a thick stack of papers bound together with a deep red ribbon.

Curious, Caspian grasped the fragile bundle and pulled it out, setting it gently on the ground in front of him.

"What's that?" The sudden question made him jump as he glanced up at Trumpkin.

"I don't know."

The dwarf set down a few of the dresses he had been taking out of Lucy's trunk and chuckled, "The secret diary of the High King perhaps? I'd pay good money to read that."

Caspian's eyes narrowed. "If it is a journal of some kind, I'm sure Peter wanted to keep it private, otherwise he wouldn't have put it in a chest located in a secret treasure chamber."

Trumpkin shrugged. "But you forget, here in Narnia, he's been gone for centuries. I think we're entitled to some information about our ancient rulers."

"That doesn't really assure me. I can't help getting the feeling that Peter will suddenly appear to get vengeance on me as soon as I open this."

"And yet, you have yet to put it back..."

Caspian tried to think of a good retort, but, upon coming up dry, he merely shifted his gaze back to the papers. The red ribbon seemed to be encouraging him to take a peek inside. Finally, he grabbed it and gently untied it, trying to ignore the chuckles of the dwarf as he did so.

The first page was blank, a cover of some kind no doubt. The next page was filled with the strong, clean penmanship of Peter. Feeling incredibly guilty but far too curious to stop, Caspian read the first few lines: _I've learned an important lesson this past month and by Aslan's grace, I'll never make this mistake again. It all started when the people north of Lantern Waste laid siege to one of our forts that was close to the borders of that land._

"Well? Is he confessing deep secrets?" Trumpkin's gruff, but playful voice interrupted him.

Caspian glanced back up at him as he began to tie the bundle up again. "It is a journal of some kind, but I highly doubt that it is as secretive as you make it out to be. But I imagine it was personal."

"So, what are you going to do with it?" Trumpkin asked as he watched his king pick up the bundle.

"I'm going to take it back to my castle. After all, as you said, it is an important piece of history. Besides-" Caspian added when he saw the teasing sparkle brighten in the dwarf's eyes, "-perhaps by reading the High King's records, I will discover the secret to what made the Pevensies' reign a Golden Era."

And before the dwarf could utter another word, Caspian left the room, carrying his precious cargo.

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Evening had fallen by the time Caspian and his followers returned to the former Telmarine castle. Caspian barely ate any supper, for the desire to read Peter's journal burned within him, filling him with impatient anticipation.

As he hurriedly changed into his nightclothes, he found himself wondering just _what_ he was so excited about. Perhaps it was the prospect of getting to know one of Narnia's heroes better, getting to know what the High King was like when he didn't have to act like a king anymore. In any case, the thought of reading anything from Narnia's Golden Age caused him to rush through his evening preparations until he finally settled down in his bed with the covers pulled up and the bundle of papers beside him.

With an almost reverent air, Caspian picked up the first sheet of paper and began to read.

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Well, I hope I sparked your interest. Thanks for reading! :)


	2. Becoming a Leader

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia_.

Wow! I am amazed at the feedback I have been getting! Thank you so much! :) I'm glad you all are enjoying it so far.

Slight warning for this chapter, there will be battle-related violence present. If this makes you uncomfortable, please refrain from reading. :)

simbelmyrne-Thanks so much for the review! I guess I did base parts of it more off of the movie than I anticipated, I totally forgot that Trumpkin was with them in the books! Ah well, I guess it still works. I am glad you are enjoying the story though, thanks for reading. :) And cool name, by the way, Lord of the Rings, yes?

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**Chapter Two: Becoming a Leader**

_I've learned an important lesson this past month and by Aslan's grace, I'll never make this mistake again._

It all started when the people north of Lantern Waste laid siege to one of our forts that was close to the borders of that land. Our soldiers sent a missive requesting aid and it was mutually decided between myself, my siblings, and Oreius - with whom I consult about only everything - that I would lead a contingent of soldiers to drive back the attackers. We set aside a block of nearly two months for this plan- as it would take a week to travel there, a week to travel back, and hopefully the remaining weeks would provide us with plenty of time to drive back the enemy, whom we considered to be a rather weak and ill-organized group. That was my first mistake.

It was also my first campaign of sorts and, though I felt terribly young, being still fourteen, I was eager to prove myself, eager to win honor in battle, eager to be the High King that everyone expected me to be. I resolved to lead my men as best as I could, relying on outside help only every now and then. That was my second mistake.

We got to the fort within six days and found it all still and quiet. Our soldiers within the fort let us in, informing us that ever since they had sent the missive, the attacks had left off, though their spies had spotted the enemy encampment not more than a mile off. The enemy was neither leaving nor attacking, merely just sitting in their encampment waiting for something. All of my instincts screamed that this was too easy, that it was a trap, but I ignored them. My third, most grievous mistake.

Since the enemy showed no indication of attacking us, I decided that it would be best for us to attack them. My followers all readily agreed, now that fresh troops had arrived. The spies that had been sent out to investigate the enemy encampment reported that the enemy appeared to be huddled into one large camp directly north of the fort. We settled on a simple attack plan: Start out as one group, then as we approached the camp, branch out to the left and right, surround the enemy and, well, proceed from there.

It sounded so simple, like nothing could go wrong, and the ease of it unsettled me. I should have listened to my instincts that were screaming at me that this was wrong. It was too easy! But I paid no heed.

We set out shortly after night fell, hoping to catch the enemy off guard. I split our troops up into three groups: a tiger named Cyndir leading one, a faun named Gracn leading the second, and me leading the last group. The other two groups would travel up opposite sides of the encampment while I led my group straight up the center. We were all on foot, so as to attract less attention. Besides, we didn't have much ground to cover.

I was nervous, naturally, when we left the secure walls of the fortress, but I was confident that my plan would work. At least, no one had voiced any objection to it- a sign I took as approval.

We made our way to the enemy encampment with hardly any detectable noise. Soon we could see the flickering torches of the enemy campsite. Our troops broke off into their groups and together we advanced, slowly encircling the camp. We gave it a wide birth, so as not to be spotted before I could give the signal to attack.

Since my group had the least ground to cover, I halted within a couple hundred yards of the camp and had us all crouch down as we waited for the signals from the other two groups. As we knelt there, waiting, I studied what I could see of the enemy. To my surprise, there were few soldiers standing about. Were all of them in their tents? A cold knot of uncertainty began to tighten in my stomach. Did they suspect an attack?

A birdcall to the left, followed shortly by another one to the right interrupted my thoughts. The other groups were ready, there was no time to formulate another plan.

I stood up and my troops raised themselves up behind me. Drawing my sword, I ran forward, shouting, "Narnians! Attack!"

We charged forward, closing in on every side. But the soldiers in the camp, though they looked mildly surprised, did not appear quite as caught off their guard as they should be. It only served to deepen my anxiety, yet I pressed on.

But as soon as we had pushed our way almost to the center of the camp, a great shout rose up behind me. I quickly dispatched of the soldier I was fighting against and whirled around to find the source of the commotion.

To my dismay, I saw hundreds of soldiers surrounding our troops, cutting into them from behind. It had been a trap all along, my worst fears had been confirmed and I berated myself most bitterly for not having paid heed to my initial instincts that had warned against this attack.

Panic began to set it but I refused to give way before it. Panicking would not help us get out of this situation. There was nothing we could do but fight, and so fight I did.

Since we were being attacked from behind I found myself with very few foes to fight, being near the middle of the camp. I turned and began to force my way to the enemy. It was alarming how easy it was to reach the enemy, throwing into perspective just how few troops we had compared to our foes who seemed to have swelled in number overnight.

The first man I encountered nearly took my head off with a vicious swing of his sword. I ducked while lunging forward with my sword extended and winced as it slid into his soft belly. I never could get used to killing.

I jerked my blade free just in time to block a blow from another man coming at me from the left. Our blades skittered against each other and his slipped just far enough to cut deeply into my wrist.

The pain caused me to stumble just enough to give him time to bring his sword up again. I could see the blade bearing down on me. I brought up my left arm to block, already knowing that I wouldn't be fast enough. I was going to die.

_Clang!_

A Narnian faun caught the blade on his own and knocked it out of the man's hand before cleanly cutting off his head.

"Thanks," I panted as I turned to face my next attacker.

Dodge, parry, thrust. Jump over a blade sweeping near my feet. Turn and stab a man about to kill one of the centaurs. Over and over, block, lunge, duck. Again and again...and I was getting tired. My arm was bleeding profusely by now. I was having trouble using my sword, which seemed to be growing heavier by the minute.

I stumbled over to a relatively safe area, momentarily free from enemies, to scope out the situation. My heart clenched in dismay as I saw how many of our troops had fallen. If we didn't retreat now, there would be no one left.

"Retreat!" I hardly recognized the shaky voice that came from my throat. I took a deep breath and called out more strongly, "Narnians! Back to the fort!"

It was difficult, but one by one they began to break away and run in the direction of the fort. I too began forcing my way, though the enemy was viciously trying to keep us from escaping.

Suddenly I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and begin to lift me off the ground. I instinctively brought my blade up, but the familiar voice of Belius, a centaur, calmed me, "Easy, my king, let me carry you to safety."

He swung me up onto his back and easily galloped through the mayhem of men and Narnians. Several times I felt a blade brush up against me, but I wasn't completely useless and I deftly deflected any blows that came from the sides. And then we were free, galloping towards the fort that would provide us with shelter until we could regroup ourselves.

We clattered into the courtyard and I almost immediately dismounted, for I knew it was rare to ride a centaur and I didn't want to be presumptuous.

Our troops came running in behind us, some helping others who were wounded. Rather than keep our troops out, I let the gate stay open long enough to let in a few enemies along with our late-coming soldiers before bolting it closed. The men who had made it into the fort with us quickly surrendered when they saw their plight. An eerie stillness settled over the fort.

Every eye was unconsciously starting to turn to me for direction. I looked back at them hopelessly, unsure of what to do. That is, until my eyes fell on a faun who was missing one of his arms. "Move the wounded below and get them tended to. We'll rest tonight and examine our situation more closely in the morning."

"Yes, your Majesty," echoed through the courtyard.

A hideous laugh rent the air and as I faced the direction it was coming from, I saw that it was one of the men we had taken prisoner. He pointed a blood-stained finger at me and laughed again, "_That_ is your king?! No wonder we fooled you so easily! You...you have a..._child_ leading you?!"

One of his guards gave him a resounding strike against the head. "Yes, he is our king and as such, you will show him the respect he deserves."

"Why?" The man cackled. "He's not _my_ king."

The guard was poised to strike him again, but I intervened, "Leave it be. Take the prisoners to one of the empty storage rooms below and keep them under guard."

"As you wish, sire."

The cackling man and his comrades were quickly escorted out of the area and the wounded were cautiously taken to the rooms below to be cared for. The troops that remained were so precious few that I felt faint.

How could I have inadvertently caused the deaths of so many?

A gentle hand on my shoulder caused me to look up into Belius's compassionate face. "Sire, you are wounded. You must let a healer tend to you."

I glanced down dumbly at my arm and noted through blurry vision that I was still bleeding sluggishly. I wouldn't be able to do anyone any good if I bled to death. I nodded and allowed myself to guided downstairs to a waiting healer.

I barely felt the healer peel my sleeve back away from my wound and begin to clean it. A numbness had settled over me, deadening my senses in the wake of a vicious battle.

The healer had just finished wrapping the bandage around my limb when Cyndir came rushing into the room. The tiger looked almost panicked. "My lord!"

"What? What is it?" I tried to appear calm even as a cold knot of apprehension grew in my gut.

"The enemy sneaked into the fort while we were away and killed some of the soldiers who were guarding our provisions. They've...they've..." He shook his great head as if that would help him come to grips with what they did.

"What _happened_, Cyndir?" My voice trembled ever so slightly.

"They've destroyed most of our food and water. Fortunately, a few of the Narnian guards realized what they were doing and drove them off before they could destroy _all_ of it, but..."

I felt sick with dread. "How much is left, do you think?"

"We have enough to last us a week...maybe two if we double ration it."

I slumped back against a nearby wall. With the enemy surrounding our fort outside, I had led my troops into a tomb!

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"We have to get word to Cair Paravel."

Cyndir, Belius, Gracn, and I were gathered in the storeroom, staring in dismay at the broken casks of water and the ruined pieces of food that lay scattered about the area. I turned to the centaur. "We have messengers that are small enough not to be caught by the enemy, correct?"

"Yes, we have a few squirrels."

I nodded and began to pace the room, trying to think of a reasonable way out of our predicament. _Dear Aslan, please give me wisdom_. Out loud, I said, "It will take the squirrels at least a week to get to Cair Paravel and if Oreius or Edmund or _whoever_ comes rides hard, they can get here in four, maybe five days. We have to make our food last until then. If we can hang on long enough, we have a chance at survival."

I stopped pacing long enough to assess my comrades' expressions. Though they looked uneasy, I could tell that none of them could come up with another plausible situation. "Do you think we can ration the remaining food and water to last that long?"

Cyndir gave a slow nod. "It's possible. But what if...what if our messengers take longer or get lost or relief from Cair Paravel takes longer than expected to arrive? I doubt we could stretch the rations past two weeks. We'd be half-starved as it is."

"We just have to trust that Aslan will send help in time. We can do no more, " I responded with a touch of desperation in my voice.

Belius bowed his head. "I shall ready the messengers."

As the centaur left the room, I turned towards the remaining two occupants. "Is there a soldier that you would trust to keep guard over the food rations without partaking of more than his allotted portion?"

Gracn thought for a moment. "If Lystrus has survived, I'd imagine he could do it."

I thought of the burly bear he was talking about and a frown creased my brow. "Are you certain?"

Cyndir managed what, for him, must be a smile. "Very."

"Well, see if you can find him then."

"As you desire, my lord." The two of them bowed low before exiting the room.

I stared at our meager supply of provisions once more and let out a shaky breath. "Please, Aslan, deliver us from this terrible predicament. Have mercy upon us, Great Lion."

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The dawn broke soon after our squirrel messengers had scampered away on their mission. The fort was eerily quiet once I left the downstairs area and came up to the main courtyard. One of the squirrels had hurried back to inform me that the enemy was now surrounding the fort. They had even gone so far as to move their tents and supplies to their new location. They were settling in until they starved us out, until we attempted to force our way past them, or until we surrendered. None of these were options that I was willing to consider.

In light of this new information, I was surprised by how still it was. The majority of the enemy must either be sleeping or the captains were exceptionally good at keeping their men quiet. Whatever their reason was, I was mildly thankful for it because it gave me the peace and quiet I needed so that I could rest.

As I sank down into a nearby corner, I rested my head in my hands. What was I doing? What made me think that I could lead these Narnians? For that matter, what made me think that I could be a king? I was just a schoolboy from England. The hardest task I should be completing right now should be trying to pass algebra, not figuring out how to get troops safely out of an enemy-surrounded fort.

But the answer came to me in a flash. _I_ did not choose to be king. _I_ had nothing to do with it whatsoever. Aslan chose me and my siblings to rule Narnia, though I couldn't begin to fathom why. Still if he had chosen us, he must have known what he was doing and he would equip us, equip _me_, for whatever tasks or trials arose in the line of our duty.

With that thought lingering in my mind and comforting my heart, I dropped off to sleep.

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I never realized how quickly a person gets hungry until I began to ration my food along with the rest of my troops. Though the portions never fully satisfied, I was surprised to discover that the human body could function considerably well with less food. Sure, there was the occasional dizziness if you got up too fast and the headaches and the stomach constantly growling and...in short, it was a miserable experience, but I tried to keep a cheerful countenance in order to encourage my soldiers. And for the first few days, it worked. We all bore our trial considerably well.

The semblance of peace abruptly ended on the third day following our failed attack. On this day, the enemy become more active.

I was sitting in the courtyard talking with Belius, when a loud, coarse voice called out, "Little king! Little king! We have gifts for you!"

I frowned and exchanged puzzled glances with Belius. This was the first we had even heard of the enemy talking to us. For the past few days, they had kept to themselves, merely keeping guard on our fort.

Unsure of how to respond, I kept quiet.

A few seconds passed, followed by, "What? Has the little king lost his voice? Perhaps if we just give you our gifts now, you will respond to us."

A glance at Belius assured me to keep quiet.

There was a soft whistling sound, followed by a _thunk_.

Something had landed inside our courtyard.

I scrambled to my feet to see what it was, but before I had taken a step, another object fell into the courtyard and another and another. They were vaguely shaped like circles, but I could not see what they were until one landed at my feet.

I thought I was going to be sick.

They were throwing the heads of our dead Narnian troops over the walls. Whether to scare us, taunt us, or for some other purpose, I knew not. But it horrified me and a righteous fury burned within me, such that I almost shrieked my indignation back to the enemy.

A strong hand on my shoulder prevented me from doing so. Though Belius's face was pale and sorrowful, he gave me a stern glance. "Do not respond to them, sire. Do not sink to their level."

It took much restraint on my part, but I could see the logic of his reasoning. After regaining some semblance of calm, I instructed, "Have the heads gathered together and placed in one of the rooms below. Should we be given an opportunity, we will give these soldiers a proper burial."

And, though it wasn't pleasant, because I didn't want to give my soldiers a duty that I was not willing to do myself, I gingerly picked up the head lying at my feet and led the way to one of the empty chambers below.

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The week progressed with agonizing slowness. The enemy did not throw any further body parts over our walls, but their taunts began to increase in strength. Often they would cook delicious smelling food and eat it loudly, commenting on how good it was. Those comments became so infuriating and our hunger so strong, that many of us refused to come up into the main courtyard.

But hunger and taunts were not our only problems. The shortage of supplies also affected our wounded. Unable to clean wounds as effectively as they could in a well-provisioned fort, our healers had their hands full of delirious, starving soldiers. And it was not long before they began to die.

By the end of the first week, four of the wounded were dead. We transported their bodies to the same room where we put the heads of our other fallen. But the festering wounds and decaying bodies in the fort began to spread sickness among us all and with little food and water in our stomachs, we were ill-prepared to fight against sickness.

I contracted a fever myself, mostly due to the wound on my arm growing infected. I lay in the same room with the rest of the sick and the wounded, though the number had increased to the majority by now and many of the rooms were opened up to accommodate us all.

In a feverish sweat, moaning from the pain that radiated from my arm, I listened in despair to the rest of the moans of my soldiers. And my self-hatred increased daily as I realized that _I_ had brought us to this state. It was _my_ fault and mine alone.

"Aslan, forgive me," I croaked as I twisted about on the blankets I was lying on. "Please forgive me."

"Sssh!" A dwarf came into my view, one of the few healers who was still able to work. His deep-set kind eyes gazed down at me as he dabbed at my brow with a cool cloth. "Sire, do not vex yourself."

"But it is my fault!" I moaned as frustrated tears leaked from my eyes. "This entire mess was made because of me!"

"Hush now!" He murmured back in a sterner voice. "Part of becoming a leader is learning to deal with your mistakes. It is not a matter of _if_ you make mistakes, it is _when _you make mistakes. You are not perfect, but a good leader graciously accepts the consequences of his failures, makes amends where he can, and does not wallow in self-pity in the aftermath. A good leader comes out the stronger for his failures. You can become that kind of leader. Aslan chose you, I believe, because he knew you would have the kind of character that would grow strong in the face of trial and error. Aslan sees in you the magnificence that comes when you humbly admit your mistakes, graciously ask for pardon, and then seek to do better when the next trial comes. Do what he expects, my king, and your subjects will follow you anywhere."

I stared up at him, feeling ashamed of my earlier despair, but encouraged to persevere. In a hoarse whisper, I told him, "Thank you, my good dwarf."

He just smiled at me and went back to tending his patients.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I dragged myself out of the sick area the next day, if only to get away from the oppressive atmosphere. And once I reached the fresher air of the courtyard, I did feel mildly better. The cooler air soothed my feverish skin.

The good feelings did not last long, however, for shortly after I had found a comfortable spot to sit in, Gracn came up to me with a solemn expression on his face. He glanced around surreptitiously before leaning in and whispering, "Sire, we've run out of food."

I stared at him in incomprehension. Our food couldn't possibly be gone! Help had not yet arrived! We were supposed to be rescued before we ever reached this point of desperation. "What about water?"

He slowly shook his head. "Enough for today, we'll have none tomorrow."

And I already felt faint and thirsty. What were we going to do now? "We must bear up as best we can. Our trust is in Aslan. By his provision, perhaps help will come in time."

Gracn murmured in agreement. "Shall I inform the other commanders?"

"Yes, but do not tell our soldiers yet. I will address them this evening."

"Very well, sire."

I watched the faun go downstairs, with a heavy heart. Starvation was not the death I had imagined for myself.

Just to be certain, even though I knew it would be a useless gesture, I decided to go see our provisions for myself. I stood up slowly, but my vision still darkened a bit due to my fever and my hunger. Nevertheless, I resolutely made my way downstairs. I passed the first few rooms, the ones filled with our wounded and sick, and turned down the passage that led to the provision room. On the way, I passed the room where we were keeping the prisoners. Something struck me as strange about it, but I couldn't figure it out so I kept walking.

A few paces later and it struck me that the room did not have a guard in front of it. Frowning, I drew my sword and doubled back to the provision room. Pausing for a moment outside, I put my ear to the door but could hear nothing inside. Had the prisoners escaped?

Cautiously, I put my hand on the door knob and opened it. The interior was dark, darker than it should have been, for we had given the prisoners torches.

Sweat tickled the back of my neck as I edged inside.

A rough hand landed on my sword arm and knocked my weapon from my hand. Before I could utter a sound, I was dragged all the way inside the room and thrown against one of the walls.

My vision blackened and I tumbled to the floor. Dimly, I could hear the sound of the door being shut. I knew I was in terrible danger, but I was so weak from hunger and sickness that I couldn't even gather the strength to move. _Stupid, Peter, stupid! You should have called for assistance when you noticed the guard was gone_.

But it was too late now and I didn't have the breath to call for help. The next moment, it didn't matter anyway because the hand was back. Only this time, it grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back up against the wall, holding me in place. The sharp edge of my own blade came to rest on my throat and through my swirling vision, I could just barely make out the features of the man who had mocked me when he had first been captured.

He stared at me for a moment before comprehension settled in and a slow smirk crept across his face. "Would you look at this, gents, not only do we have leverage to get us out of the fort, but a prisoner we can ransom as well! It's their little boy-king!"

A series of sinister chuckles sounded in the room as the rest of the prisoners-five in all-came up behind him to look at me.

I swallowed hard, trying to breath around the vice-like grip on my throat.

The man tilted his head to the side. "You're looking a little worse for wear, your highness. Not getting enough food, are you?"

I closed my eyes as they all laughed again. How did I always manage to get myself into these types of sticky situations?

"Come now," he spoke again, shaking me a bit. "Even the guard outside showed more spirit than this and I'm sure those ugly little faun creatures require twice as much food as a human. Surely he was more faint than you and he was twice as fiery when we came at him."

That reminded me of the reason I had come into the room in the first place. I forced my eyes open, asking hoarsely, "What have you done with him?"

A smirk came over his features. "Concerned about him are we?"

"I'm concerned about all of my soldiers." I glared back at him defiantly.

"Oh, then you'll be glad to know we've rid him of all his temporary ills." He jerked me forward as he spoke, turning me and holding me against his chest with the sword still resting at my throat. He directed my gaze to one of the corners of the room where the faun guard lay in a heap, dead.

A shudder ran through me.

My captor picked up on it. "What? You do not like the favor I have done for your friend?"

"Do not mock his death!" I hissed.

The blade bit into my neck, causing a drop of blood to rise to the surface and drip down my throat. "I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, your highness. But come, we waste time. Berdanen, check to see if the passage is clear."

One of the men left the group and cautiously opened the door. Peering outside for a second or two, he pulled his head back in and informed his leader, "It's clear."

"Good, let's go." The man forced me to walk forward and out into the empty passageway. We made our way back up the hall that I had just recently traversed, passing by all the sick rooms again without anyone paying us any heed. But when we started to ascend the staircase that led to the main courtyard, we heard a loud commotion: a great jumble of shouts and ringing metal.

"What is this?" The man demanded, tightening the grip he had on my one arm.

"I don't know," I spat back, annoyed that he'd think I would know anymore than he since I had been with him whenever what was happening had started.

And then I heard a voice call out above the others, "Where is he? Where's Peter?"

Edmund! Edmund had come!

I was so relieved that I almost forgot my present troubles.

Almost.

"Whatever is going on, you're still coming with us. I'll not die here." The man growled in my ear and gave me a shove to get me moving again.

The sunlight blinded me as soon as we entered the main courtyard and it took me a moment to finally comprehend the scene in front of me. Dozens of Narnians on horseback were flooding into the fort, having apparently dispatched of the enemy at our gates. And in front of them all, riding Philip, was my dear brother. He was talking to Belius, but he must have caught our movement out of the corner of his eye for he turned towards us. He took in the situation with a glance, his expression darkening.

"What do you mean by this? Holding one of our own captive?" He called out.

Instantly every Narnian grew still and faced us, all becoming aware of my predicament.

"And just who might you be?" My captor snarled.

Edmund lifted his chin just a bit in indignation, glaring down at us. "I am King Edmund of Narnia."

Even though I couldn't see him in my current position, I could sense the man's confusion. For a moment he couldn't even speak and his gaze kept shifting from me to my brother.

A flash of amusement darted across Edmund's face, but I doubt anyone but I caught it.

"What do you mean?!" The man hissed and dug the blade further into my neck. "I thought _this_ was the king of Narnia."

"He is," my brother concurred.

"But...but..."

Edmund was not about to explain the situation to him, his already thin patience was rapidly reaching its' breaking point. "Unhand King Peter at once, surrender yourselves to us, and we will not give you the death penalty for threatening our ruler."

Whether it be from sheer confusion or whether he sensed that there was no way to get out of the fort even with a captive, the man finally lowered his blade and shoved me forward. I stumbled but was kept from falling by Belius's strong grip. Instantly our troops moved forward and apprehended the remaining men.

I was trembling so badly that Belius had to keep an arm around my waist to keep me from falling. I could hear Edmund giving orders to the soldiers, but couldn't discern what he was saying.

"Are you alright, my lord?" The centaur asked, one of his cool hands smoothing back my sweaty locks from my forehead.

"I will be," I choked out around the lump in my throat.

"Of course he will be, he's Peter!" Edmund had finished directing and now dismounted, walking quickly over to me. The next moment, I was pried from the centaur's grip and swept into my brother's crushing embrace. I wrapped my arms around him, grateful beyond all expression to be safe and with my sibling again.

"Thank Aslan you are safe," Edmund whispered in my ear.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It took several weeks to recover from my ordeal, but slowly and surely I did. The most difficult part of the recovery was burying all of the soldiers who had fallen and giving my condolences to their families.

The families did not blame me for what happened, but I couldn't help but feel responsible for the tears that fell down their faces. My siblings refused to let me dwell in self-pity though and I still remembered the words that the good dwarf had spoken to me. I wanted to be the kind of king he described, so I tried to learn from my mistake and carry on with my duties.

_But one thing I vowed was that I would never allow myself or my men to be imprisoned in our own fortress again. It was better to retreat completely or die fighting than to die a slow death of sickness and starvation._

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The candle was burning low now, its' wax had melted all over the stand that it was resting in. Caspian slowly set aside the last page of Peter's entry and settled back against his pillows to think.

Now he could see the reason behind Peter's vehemence for not wanting to stay at Aslan's How when given the choice to stay or fight.

_"This isn't a fortress! It's a tomb."_

He knew better than anyone present that day what it was like to be starved out of a building that was supposed to provide shelter. That's why Edmund had agreed with his brother when Caspian had expected the more level-headed king to agree with him. How foolish he had been to speak without considering that the two "boys" had been through far more battles than he had! It was far too easy to see them as two young, inexperienced men than as hardened, skilled knights.

By the end of the Pevensies' visit, Peter and he had reached a mutual understanding of and a respect for one another; Caspian only wished he had reached that state sooner. Peter certainly deserved it.

A yawn interrupted Caspian's train of thought, reminding him of how late it was. The rest of the journal would have to wait until tomorrow.

He picked up the sheets that he had already read and was about to lay them on top of the other pile, when he saw that the next sheet of paper had different handwriting on it. Intrigued, he picked it up.

_Is it possible to care too much? To devote so much of yourself to a cause or a person and have the reward turn out to be not what you expect? I have found it to be so._

It was Susan's penmanship, more sophisticated and flowery than Peter's straightforward, dark marks. Had all of the royals written in here then, not just Peter? The thought sparked Caspian's curiosity once more, but it was far too late to read anymore.

Caspian set the papers aside on a nearby table and blew out the candle. Within moments, he was asleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Hope you all enjoyed and thanks for reading! :)


	3. Sacrificial Love

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia._

First off, let me start out by saying how sorry I am that it has been a month since my last update! I wanted to get this out last week, but my computer crashed and I lost all of my files. :( Luckily, I write everything by hand before I type up my stories. I often get mocked for being old-fashioned, but when technology fails, at least I still have my original copies. :) So, I apologize for the wait, but it was rather inevitable. On the bright side, thank you to all the reviewers and the people who put this story on their alerts/favorites list. I truly appreciate it.

*blink*- Thanks so much for the support! I'm glad you are liking it so far.

musiclover-Hey there!!! Good to "see" you again. :) Thanks so much for your encouragement, I really appreciate it. I shall strive to do my best not to disappoint you.

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**Chapter Three: Sacrificial Love**

_Is it possible to care too much? To devote so much of yourself to a cause or a person and the reward is not what you expected? I have found it to be so. _

It was our first fall in Narnia and it came as a pleasant surprise to me that the leaves changed color here just as they did in England. I don't know what else I was expecting them to do, but in the magical world of Narnia, I would not have been surprised if the leaves had exploded instead of fallen gently to the ground.

Cooler breezes began to blow in from the ocean and we all began to take out our cloaks to wear when we went anywhere outside of the castle. During this time, delegates from Archenland invited us to come to a fox hunt festival-of the non-talking breed, of course- that would last for approximately three weeks. But Edmund was beginning to come down with a cold, as he always did around this time of year, and since I did not wish to leave him alone, I elected to stay behind as well. So Peter and Lucy, with many hugs and kisses from the latter, set off for Archenland with a contingent of Narnian attendants and soldiers and left us two middle child Pevensies at Cair Paravel.

The next few days were spent conniving Edmund into taking the suspicious-looking medicines that the Narnian healers had conjured up. And, whether it be from fear of taking this medicine or whether he really did feel better, Edmund remarkably got over his cold by the fifth day after Peter and Lucy's departure.

Having been left with no one else to mother and very little activity to do in the castle, I took to walking around the expansive castle grounds, which were breathtakingly beautiful. One of my favorite maids, a calico cat named Alia, would frequently accompany me on these walks and show me many secret alcoves and passageways in the gardens that I never would have known existed if she hadn't shown me.

It was during one of these walks, when we had traversed quite far from the castle, that we bumped into a rather distraught female dwarf.

I almost didn't see her, for she was crouched next to one of the benches that had been placed out on various spots on the winding pathways of the gardens. But as soon as I stepped towards the bench, she edged forward timidly. "Queen Susan?"

Both Alia and I jumped and I didn't miss how my maid maneuvered herself in front of me. It became quite apparent that it was very foolish of me to venture so far without an armed escort. Fortunately, the dwarf woman did not appear to be dangerous.

"Queen Susan?" Uncertainty clouded the dwarf's face now and I belatedly realized that I had not answered her query before.

"Yes, I'm Queen Susan. How may I help you?"

She twisted her hands for a moment, looking uncertainly at Alia, who had yet to give the dwarf a friendly look. "I…well, I…"

Much to my dismay and concern, she burst into tears and dropped onto her knees, her hands extended to me in a gesture of pleading. "Your Majesty, I've come to my wits end. My children are deathly ill and I can find no cure for their sickness. My husband has left in search of a remedy, for he hates to seek aid from your majesties, but I fear he will not return in time. I heard that Your Majesty was skilled in the art of healing, and I thought that maybe…you would…have mercy upon us and save my children!"

Sympathy and utter helplessness to do anything about this poor dwarf's situation rose within me until I nearly felt like crying myself. She had mistaken me for Lucy, with her magical cordial, both of which were now in Archenland. I knelt down in front of the little woman and took her hands in mine as I responded earnestly, "My dear lady, I assure you that if it was in my power to give healing to your children, I would do so without a moment's hesitation. But I am afraid you have heard of my sister's reputation and mistaken me for her. She is not with us at the moment; otherwise I would fetch her with all haste. I am afraid I am not a skilled healer by any means."

The dwarf's shattered expression made me feel like an executioner who had sentenced her children to death. She squeezed my hands tightly in hers, eyes shining with desperation. "Will you do nothing? Can you at least come and see my children? Do something to ease their discomfort?"

How could I refuse such a request? "I will come, my good dwarf. Is your house far from here?"

"No, not far at all, my lady. I live in that forest right there." She turned and pointed to a small forest about a half mile off.

"Very well then-" I paused for her to give me her name.

"Nyella, Your Majesty," she responded with a bowed head.

"Nyella," I repeated with a smile. "Let me return to the castle to gather supplies and fetch one of our healers and inform my brother of where I am going, then I will come. Would you like to come with us?"

"Thank you very kindly, Your Majesty, but no. I will wait here for you; I wouldn't know how to behave in a castle." Nyella dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

I almost responded that _I_ hardly knew how to act in a castle, but refrained from wasting any more time talking while her children were so ill.

I stood up and motioned to my maid. "Come, Alia."

As we ran back to the castle, my maid asked, "Are you sure about this, my lady?"

"Of course I'm sure," I responded, mildly irritated that she didn't have the same concern for the dwarf that I had. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"It could be a trap, to get you alone and unprotected."

The thought gave me pause. As much as I hated to admit it, it _was_ a possibility. Not all of the Narnians were keen on the idea of humans ruling them, especially since we looked so much like the White Witch, even though she hadn't been human. Still, I couldn't dismiss the thought of little dwarf children dying, so I replied, "I will bring some guards with me. I'll be careful."

"As you wish, my lady."

And right as she finished speaking, we arrived at the castle and ran inside. Slightly breathless from my little jaunt, I grabbed the nearest palace guard and gasped, "My brother, where is he?"

His brow furrowed with concern. "Are you alright, my lady?"

"I'm fine, just been running. Now please, where is Edmund?"

"I believe he is in his study, Your Majesty."

He barely got the words out before I was briskly walking in the direction of the study, Alia trailing along behind me.

The doors to the room were shut, which meant that Edmund was trying to concentrate and did not wish to be disturbed. Well, too bad.

I knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" My brother's grumpy voice asked. His speech still sounded a bit nasally due to the remaining symptoms of his cold.

"It's me, Susan."

"I've taken my medicine, I've drunk at least three glasses of water, and I have my own supply of handkerchiefs. There is no need for interference."

I rolled my eyes. "That is not why I am here. Now are you going to let me in or will I have to break the door down?"

He mumbled, "Come in."

I glanced down at Alia, who had a rather amused expression on her face, and shook my head. "Brothers."

As I came into the room, I saw Edmund hurriedly wiping his nose right before he stuffed his handkerchief into a drawer. I knew he was trying to make himself appear to be fine, but little did he know that he had just turned his nose bright red by rubbing at it.

Though my lips twitched, I refrained from saying anything.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

"What? I don't even get a 'Good afternoon, Susan, how are you?'"

He shot me a perturbed look.

"Fine, fine." I waved my hand dismissively and informed him of the situation that had arisen.

By the time I finished, he was smirking. "So now that you can no longer baby me, you have to go find someone else to take care of?"

I smiled. "You know I do."

"Alright, just be careful and take some guards with you."

"Of course." I walked to the door, but right as I was about to leave, I called over my shoulder, "Oh and Edmund? I will inform the chief healer to bring up your medicine for the afternoon. Be a dear and take it without any trouble, will you?"

His scowl followed me out the door.

______________________________________________________________________________

In fifteen minutes time, Alia and I were once again walking to the place where we had left the dwarf, this time accompanied by six guards and an assistant healer named Amica. I had suspected the dwarf to be gone, still somewhat suspicious that this was a trick of some kind.

But when we reached the clearing, there was Nyella, still dabbing hopelessly at the tears that had yet to cease running from her eyes. She looked up as she heard us approach and instantly relief spread across her features. "Oh bless you, Your Majesty, bless you!"

I smiled hesitantly at her, unused to such displays of gratitude. "You're welcome, Nyella. Now, if you will lead the way, we'll be happy to follow you to your home to see what we can do for your children."

At the mention of her offspring, her face dimmed a bit, but she got off of the ground and started off in the direction of the woods she had pointed out to us earlier.

She walked so fast that we had a hard time keeping up with her. Nevertheless, within ten minutes, she had led us to a gigantic hollowed oak in the forest and opened up a cleverly concealed door at the base of the tree. Right before she entered, she paused and looked back uncertainly at all the guards I had brought. "I'm afraid I don't have room for all of you. Would it be alright if just two of the guards came in and the rest stay out?"

I nodded. "Yes, as long as we can keep the door open."

"Of course." Nyella beckoned to us as she disappeared inside the tree.

One of my guards went in first, followed by Amica, Alia, and I, and the second guard brought up the rear. The rest of my protectors took up positions around the door, their watchful eyes always resting upon me.

The dwarf had not been joking when she said that she didn't have enough room for us all. Even with our number reduced, we were all feeling a bit cramped. The two guards stood up against one of the walls, while we three females followed Nyella to the far side of the room where I could see two little beds.

As we got closer, I spotted the curly tops of two boy dwarfs. Their pale, sweaty faces turned towards their mother as she gently kissed each of their foreheads. "Sereno, Mirus, I've brought you some ladies who are going to help you. Be good for them; let them do what they can for you."

The two boys nodded, though to judge from their expressions, I doubt they understood what she'd said. They were probably too delirious from fever.

Nyella stepped away from her children to give us room. Amica went to one of the beds and started examining the boy in it, while I knelt next to the other child. Alia watched us from a distance, ready to get us anything we needed.

Tenderness filled my heart as soon as I saw the chubby face of the dwarf child at a close proximity. Dark russet curls framed his features and deep hazel eyes stared blearily up at me. I put one of my hands on his forehead and winced when I felt how hot it was. Glancing back at Nyella, who was watching us with a worried gaze, I asked, "How long have they been like this?"

"It's going on near a week, my lady, and nothing we do seems to help them at all!" She wrung her hands in distress.

Over to my right, Amica had finished her assessment of the first child. The grim look on her normally gentle raccoon face was not comforting. She shook her head. "It's some kind of fever, but nothing I've ever encountered before, my lady. Look, he has a strange rash on his chest and under his arms. And the glands in his throat are swollen."

Something clicked in my mind as she rattled off the symptoms, but I almost dismissed it. Surely Narnia didn't have the same kind of serious illnesses as England had. But still, the idea lingered as I reached over the dwarf that I was sitting next to and pulled down his shirt to see if he had a rash like his brother.

A splotchy patch of red began right at the bottom of his throat and spread out in all directions. I ran my finger over the bumpy surface and swallowed hard. "It's scarlet fever."

______________________________________________________________________________

Just as I feared, Amica had no idea what scarlet fever was. I tried to explain it as best as I could – without alarming Nyella – but in the end, I knew there was little we could do. Even in England, with its' antibiotics, there was not much anyone could do.

"Then…then, we just have to sit here while they suffer?" Nyella sniffed as she stared at her two ailing boys.

"No." I tried to think of what people in England did. "We can keep cool cloths on their foreheads, make them herbal teas, and keep them as comfortable as possible. The rest depends on them and Aslan."

Though I could tell my words did not comfort her, the dwarf began heating up some water for tea while I sent one of my guards to fetch a bucket of cool water for their feverish brows. Amica and I took up positions beside each of the boys, preparing to wait out the afternoon with the family. It felt so inadequate, but it was all I could do.

The hours went by with agonizing slowness as we tried to soothe the tossing boys. Every now and then we would sing songs to give them some comfort and Nyella even produced some books for us to read aloud.

But even so, by the end of the day, the boys looked the same and I wondered if our presence had done any good at all. I was determined not to give up though and as I was leaving, I grabbed hold of one of Nyella's hands and said, "I will come back tomorrow with some more supplies for you and your family. Don't lose heart."

Eyes brimming with tears of gratitude, the dwarf kissed my hand. "Bless you, Your Majesty."

And I knew then that I was doing the right thing.

______________________________________________________________________________

I came back the next day, armed with food from the castle, a couple of bodyguards, and faithful Amica and Alia.

The two boys did not look any better than they had yesterday, but neither did they look any worse. And by the way Nyella's eyes lit up when she saw the abundance of food we'd brought, I knew we were doing at least some good.

The day passed much the same as the day before, quiet and peaceful but for the fretful tossing of the two boys. Day after day, we spent hours watching over the children, singing lullabies and telling fairytales. Gradually, Sereno and Mirus appeared to get better and I began to hope for their recovery.

But our routine visits were not to last, for on the fifth day, Nyella's husband returned.

Alia was in the middle of telling us about the amusing antics of her nieces and nephews when we all heard a loud commotion outside. It sounded like my guards were arguing with someone.

"-just tell us your name."

"What is the meaning of this? Am I to be accosted in front of my own home? My children are dying in there and I'll thank you kindly to get out of my way!" A coarse but deep voice all but shouted back.

"Oh dear! Byrd's going to get himself in trouble." Nyella jumped out of her chair and ran to the door. Opening it up, she called out, "It's alright! That's my husband. Please, let him in."

With several grumbles, Byrd came into the house. His deep almost black eyes scanned the house in an instant and, if anything, his scowl grew fiercer. "Nyella, you'd better have a good reason for this. Why are these…these _soldiers_ and…and _witches_ in my house?"

Nyella's face grew pale and my maid's and healer's expressions were indignant. I for one was too shocked to even be offended.

"Byrd!" The dwarf woman moaned. "Do not say such things! Do you not know who this is?"

"No, I don't," he said gruffly. Extending a gnarly finger towards me, he added, "But I know that one looks far too much like the Witch to be of any good whatsoever."

"Byrd!" Nyella glanced back at me with a pleading expression, as if begging me to forgive her husband. "This is Queen Susan of Narnia. She and her servants have graciously helped me take care of our sons. And…and, Byrd, I think Sereno and Mirus are getting better. Isn't that good news?"

To judge by his face, it didn't appear to be good news. His dark eyes continued to glower at me. "Nyella, I don't know what possessed you to go seek help from a royal, but I think both you and they have done enough. With all due respect, _Your Majesty_," he addressed me in a tone that conveyed no respect whatsoever, "I think it is time for you to leave."

"But…but…" Nyella was crying by now, her hand clutching her husband's, trying to persuade him to cease speaking to us like this.

I glanced at the two dwarf children again, loathe to leave them in their current condition. But I knew I would do more harm than good if I stayed here. Besides, Alia and Amica looked as though they were about to tear Byrd apart. I stood up hastily. "Nyella, it's alright, we'll go. But please, if you have any further need of anything, just let us know."

Byrd scoffed, but his wife bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Please, forgive us."

I smiled. "It's alright. Come." I beckoned to my maids and we all trooped outside under the hostile gaze of Byrd. As the door slammed shut behind us and we began to walk back to the castle, an inexplicable sadness welled up inside of me.

Though I had known that Nyella's husband would return, I had not expected his reaction to our presence. After the long days of helping his children fight against this disease, I had thought that he would at least be grateful. But to be tossed out of the house, to be compared to _her_, it was almost too much for my already burdened heart to bear, especially when I didn't know if the children would survive or not.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Alia inquired as she gazed up at me.

I gave her a watery smile. "Not really, no."

One of my guards came alongside me, his eyes burning with anger. "If you want, Your Majesty, I can have Byrd arrested for-"

"No!" I cut him off, horrified at the suggestion. Seeing the startled looks on all of their faces, I quickly added, "It would only make things worse. Besides, Nyella needs her husband with her more than ever now that we are no longer there."

I could tell that this did not satisfy them, but they voiced no disagreement.

By the time we reached the castle, I was feeling a little lightheaded. I figured I had probably taxed myself too much this week, so I dismissed all of my maids and sat down in a chair in my room to think about what had happened as well as to get some much-needed rest.

The more I dwelt upon the subject, the more hurt I felt. I had sacrificed so much of my time and effort into caring for Sereno and Mirus and for that effort to be returned with scorn…

But then I thought of Aslan and how often I returned what he did for me with an ungrateful heart. "Forgive me, Aslan."

A knock sounded at the door and I rose quickly to open it. Perhaps I rose a bit too hastily, for by the time I reached the door, I felt incredibly dizzy. Shaking off the strange feeling, I opened the door and came face to face with Edmund.

His concerned eyes studied me. "I heard about what happened. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine," I responded, opening the door a little wider to let him in.

He walked past me, still eyeing me uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I shut the door and took a step towards my chair, with every intention of inviting him to sit down so we could talk. But much to my dismay, my ears began to ring and my vision flickered. It felt like the ground I was walking on was moving. When did the room get so hot?

"-san? _Susan_!"

Why did Edmund sound so concerned?

The last thing I could remember was him running towards me with genuine fear in his expression.

______________________________________________________________________________

It is difficult for me to recall the next few days; it is all a blur of feverish days and sweaty, uncomfortable nights. At times I would imagine that Mum and Dad were there, but whenever I spoke to them, they never answered. At other times, I would jerk awake, gasping in fright, imagining that the White Witch had come back from the dead to kill me.

But through all the nightmares and hallucinations, Edmund never left my side. His comforting voice was always there for me to listen to and, on the rare occasions when I was coherent, his face was the first thing I'd see. And when my fever finally broke on what I was told was the sixth day, his form, sleeping in a chair beside my bed, was the one that greeted me back into the world of the living.

I blinked several times, taking in the familiar colors of my room, trying to remember what had happened to me. I felt weak and hungry. But my main concern was the incredible thirst I had developed and since there was no one else in the room to get it for me, I knew I would have to wake up Edmund. It was not an activity that the rest of the Pevensies looked forward to, for Edmund was grouchy and difficult to wake up in the mornings. Nevertheless, my throat was screaming for relief and I reached over to gently shake my brother's shoulder.

"Edmund." Ugh, what a horrible croak my voice had developed! "Edmund."

To my surprise, he grunted and actually began to sit up and stretch. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wincing at the crick in it, before his blurry dark eyes settled on me. He blinked, a second time, a third time, before a wide grin split his face. "Susan! You're awake!"

And before I could compute that my brother was actually _smiling_ right after he woke up, he got up and _hugged_ me. I don't think I hugged him back for several seconds because I was too shocked to move, but tentatively I clasped my arms around him.

Not one for prolonged embraces, he pulled back from me and felt my forehead with one of his hands. "How do you feel?"

"Weak and slightly dizzy. What happened to me?"

He sat down beside me again to explain. "You contracted scarlet fever. I'm guessing you caught it from the dwarf children. Susan-" here he gave me a stern look, "-you _know_ how contagious that is and having never had it before, it was very foolish of you to put yourself in that situation."

"I know." My gaze dropped to my quilt and I absentmindedly began to trace over the designs on it with my finger. "I just…I couldn't just do _nothing_, not when Nyella was begging for my help."

"Susan," he reached out, grabbing hold of my chin and tilting my face towards him, "you nearly _died_. I already sent word to Archenland for Peter and Lucy to come back so we could use Lucy's cordial. Fortunately for us, your fever broke yesterday. But I'm telling you right now, _you_ are going to be the one who explains what happened when they get here."

I smiled weakly at him.

He didn't smile back. "Su, I know how much you love to serve others and I don't want to discourage that, but _please_, use better judgment next time. Alia and Amica could have stayed because they're animals and not prone to the same sicknesses that we are. For your siblings' sakes, at least consider that option next time."

"I will." And I meant it too. I knew Edmund was not keen on reproaching his siblings, so for him to say that to me, I must have caused him quite a bit of grief. I grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Ed."

"I'm just glad you're going to be alright." Then he smirked. "And now I won't have to worry about you mothering me."

It was good to find out that my aim had not been affected by my illness. The pillow I threw hit him right in the face.

______________________________________________________________________________

It took several days to convince Peter and Lucy on their return from Archenland that I was not on the brink of death. Even though I no longer had a fever, until I could sit up and walk a bit every now and then on my own, both of them checked up on me whenever they had a spare moment. It was sweet in a way, but more often than not, it was just plain annoying. It didn't help that Edmund found the whole ordeal highly amusing.

But I gradually recovered my strength and my siblings even allowed me to take small walks again, as long as I stayed in the gardens that were closer to the castle.

Nearly a week after my fever broke, I was sitting on one of the garden benches with Alia when I spotted a dwarf heading our way.

Alia, who had keener eyesight than I, stood up and hissed, "It's Byrd."

Though I could relate to her feeling of dislike, I was curious to find out what the dwarf wanted. "It's alright. Let's see what he wants."

We watched him approach with politely cool gazes. Byrd himself rarely looked up from the path he was walking on and even when he stood before us, I could hardly recognize him as the same defiant dwarf who had kicked us out of his home.

To my utter shock, he removed his cap and knelt down on the ground before me. "Your Majesty."

I exchanged incredulous glances with Alia before responding, "Yes?"

"Your Majesty…I…Queen Susan…" he stumbled over his words, his fingers twisting his cap nervously.

"Yes?"

He finally managed to lift his eyes for a second, our gazes met for a brief moment, and then he quickly dropped his head again. "F-Forgive me. It was wrong of me to treat you the way I did. Especially after all you have done for my family. Without your aid, my children would not have survived. And…and when I heard that you had become ill and were close to death…it…it _shamed_ me to think that I had returned your sacrifice with such disdain. Please, Your Majesty, I know I am unworthy of your forgiveness, but I could not rest until I begged pardon of you for my actions."

I was speechless. Never had any man, or rather, _dwarf_, abased himself before me in such a manner. I was touched by his humility. Slowly lowering myself off the bench I sat on, I sank to my knees in front of him.

He started a bit and stared at the ground for a moment before he finally got up the courage to look me in the eyes.

The words came easily for me. "I forgive you."

______________________________________________________________________________

_There are so many lessons to be learned in this world, but I have found none to be more important than those of love and forgiveness. Of all the gifts I have been given as queen, the most priceless to me have been the rewards that come from serving others._

______________________________________________________________________________

Caspian set aside the last page of Susan's entry with a sigh. He was supposed to be eating his breakfast, but he had become so engrossed in the story of the second eldest Pevensie that his meal had become congealed, unappetizing goop.

The young king rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered the different experiences of Peter and Susan. Between the two of them, he was beginning to understand that dramatic things did not necessarily have to occur for important lessons to be learned, though that had been the case with Peter, but even every day matters could have a lasting impact on one's life.

Caspian vowed then and there that he would not dismiss any plight that came to him as trivial or unworthy of his attention. Aslan cared about each of his subjects and so should he.

He reached for the next page of the journals, eager to see what else had helped the Pevensies during their reign. Edmund's handwriting covered the sheet, a great deal less neat than Peter's and Susan's but still legible.

_Trust is such a difficult thing to build and all it takes is one careless moment, one thoughtless action, to tear it down. And it is twice as hard to regain a trust that was shaky at best to begin with._

A knock sounded at the door. "Sire!"

It was Trumpkin.

"Yes?"

"The delegates from Galma have arrived."

"Bother," Caspian muttered under his breath. With great reluctance, he set aside the journal pages of the Pevensies and stood up to go greet his guests.

Must kingly duties always come before pleasure?

Caspian didn't even bother answering that question.

______________________________________________________________________________

Next up, Edmund! I've grown rather fond of him recently…he never used to be one of my favorite characters, but slowly and surely he is winning my affections.  Thanks for reading!


	4. A Second Chance

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia._

I cannot apologize enough for the _extremely_ long delay in getting this chapter out to you all, but I really had no choice in the matter. Due to a family emergency, my time has been zapped in hospital visits, moves to other cities, and trying to keep up with school at the same time. My deepest apologies, nonetheless. I cannot guarantee that my updates will be very frequent, but hopefully the delays in getting chapters out will not be as long. But rest assured, I have not gotten writer's block nor given up on this story. Thank you so much for your patience. :)

* * *

**Chapter Four: A Second Chance**

_Trust is such a difficult thing to build and all it takes is one careless moment, one thoughtless action, to tear it down. And it is twice as hard to regain a trust that was shaky at best to begin with. _

Because of my dealings with the White Witch, I had a much more difficult time settling into Narnia than my siblings did. Regardless of Aslan's words to our people about me, nothing could regain their trust but hard work and honest actions. Most of our subjects were more likely to come to my siblings rather than to me, a fact that quite discouraged me.

"Don't worry about it, Ed," Peter tried to encourage me. "Give it time. They'll come to know and love you as we know and love you."

So I resolved to patiently endure, doing the best I could to regain their trust. My subjects' distrust of me was just something I would have to put up with...little did I realize that this distrust would threaten lives.

Our first spring in Narnia saw us four siblings engaging in a novel enterprise: our first campaign. Though we'd often read about medieval armies marching out to war in the spring, we'd never had the opportunity to do so ourselves. Since we were all novices - our only real fighting had been against the Witch's army - the four of us chose to engage in the campaign together: the girls with the archers and us two boys up front with the cat-like animals, centaurs, and whatnot. Our enemy? The remnants of the Witch's army - we desired to purge all of her kind from the land.

We got word of a large group of her followers gathering in a place called Napul Valley: a rocky, many creviced area. Apparently they were trying to regroup to stage an attack on Cair Paravel, but we were going to strike first.

Oreius accompanied us as well as a dwarf captain named Alec. Alec did not care for me and made his dislike of me quite plain to everyone, though he showed just enough cold politeness not to be reprimanded. Peter often wanted to correct him, but I didn't want to cause an even bigger rift between us, so he begrudgingly left the dwarf's behavior alone. Besides, the four of us felt woefully unprepared for this campaign and I didn't want to add to our problems.

I wish I rethought that decision, but it is too late now.

We set out from Cair Paravel on a warm but wet spring day. I rode my faithful horse Philip, one of the few Narnians who genuinely seemed to like me. Peter rode beside me on a stallion: he had made it quite clear that while unicorns were beautiful, strong creatures, he felt far too much like he was a part of a fairytale when he was riding one. The Narnians did not understand what a fairytale was, but they respected his wishes and got him a non-talking horse.

I laughed quietly at the thought. It really was quite remarkable what we were doing.

Peter glanced at me. "What's so funny?"

"Would you have ever believed that two English schoolboys would be leading an army before they had even graduated?"

"Goodness, no! What would our classmates think of us now?"

"Mum would _kill_ us if she knew we were taking Lucy with us into battle," I added and instantly regretted it as Peter's face darkened. We didn't think about our parents much, but I knew that my brother, being the oldest, considered himself a temporary replacement for them here in Narnia.

"She'll be as far from battle and danger as she can be," Peter said, almost as if he were trying to convince himself of that fact.

"She'll be fine, both her and Susan." I had no idea that such would be the case, but I couldn't let my brother go off into battle worrying about us. "Besides, they have Analise with them. She won't let anything happen to them."

It was a good move to make, mentioning the centaur archer. Peter visibly relaxed as he thought of the kind, but fiercely protective creature. "She's good. I feel much better knowing that she's with them."

"Good."

A sharp screech pierced the air, preventing any further conversation. Peter and I both looked up just in time to spot a harpy diving from the sky to one of the clefts of rock ahead - probably alerting its' comrades of our approach. It was the first we had seen of the enemy, which was not comforting. Since we'd gotten so close to their hideout without spotting hide or hair of them, that meant that they were probably scattered about in the various clefts and crevices around us. That made it that much more difficult to get a good estimate of how many foes we had.

"Cyndir!" Peter barked and the tiger was quick to come. "Tell Captain Analise to take the archers along that ridge right there." He pointed to a rocky incline about a quarter of a mile off. It overlooked the valley we would soon find ourselves in and would give the archers a good view of where to aim should we have to beat a hasty retreat.

I gave a nod of approval.

Cyndir shot off like an orange streak of lightening.

Peter extended out a hand, signaling for our troops to come to a halt. The army silently came to a standstill, waiting for Cyndir to reach our archers and inform them of our plans.

As we waited, I listened closely for any sound from the enemy. But not only could I see nothing of them, they were also keeping unusually quiet. A soft sound to the left informed me that our archers were starting to move out to the ridge. I squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of Lucy and Susan, but with the great distance between us, I couldn't tell who was who.

I glanced at Peter to see if he was watching them go too. But he kept his face resolutely forward.

"They're going to make us play hide-and-seek," he commented grimly as he surveyed the rocky valley.

"What?" Oreius looked at him in confusion.

Peter's lips twitched at the reminder that they didn't play the same games in Narnia that we did in England. "Nothing."

He was right though, we were going to have to splinter our forces in order to draw out the enemy. Staring down at the craggy valley, I could make out two semi-paths. I pointed to them. "We could keep our army as intact as possible, just split into two groups."

Peter studied both paths and gave a hesitant nod. "Alright. Edmund, you and Oreius take half of our army up the left path. Alec and I will take the rest up the right."

A faint sense of relief passed through me when I knew that the feisty dwarf would not be accompanying me. My brother winked at me as if he guessed my thoughts and I gave him a small smile of gratitude as Oreius and Alec informed our army of our plans to split.

Cyndir suddenly came up to us. "The archers are in place, Your Majesties."

We glanced up at the ridge and, indeed, the archers were lined up smartly along the edge, bows in hand and eyes on the valley.

"Very good." Peter turned to me, face solemn. "Be safe, Edmund."

"I will if you will," I quipped back.

And then we broke from each other, forming our two units of soldiers.

Silently, warily, we descended into the valley. My army formed into a line of five across so we could be sure of fitting through the narrow, rocky gap. One line of soldiers passed through, two, three...it wasn't until we were about twenty lines deep into the valley when we heard the first shriek of anger right before a dozen harpies descended upon us.

I brought up my shield just in time to avoid the sharp claws of one that dove towards me. I swiped at it as it passed by, managing to chop off a couple of its' toes. Dwarfs, hags, and wolves began to pour out of the various crooks and crannies surrounding us.

"Forward!" I shouted and Philip reared up, knocking a dwarf down with a savage kick. Our line pressed on, striking anyone that stood in our path.

It was uncomfortably close fighting, the rocks around us hemmed us in tightly, but as we progressed further, the trail began to widen. Up ahead, I began to see some more of our troops who must have been a part of Peter's army. The two trails that we took were beginning to join together again.

_Yes!_ I cheered in my mind. _Perhaps this battle won't be as difficult as I thought_.

I've learned never to think so again in a battle. Just when you think you have victory in hand, the battle reverses just as fast as sand slipping through an hour glass.

I galloped out into the wide patch of terrain where the two paths converged, knocking down enemies as I did so. I craned my neck to look down the path that Peter should be coming down, hoping to assess his condition.

I spotted his bright red shirt in a moment, but my relief at seeing him did not last long. He was locked in a fierce battle with a Minotaur, who was doing everything in his power to knock my brother off of his horse. Said animal was backed up against the rocks, leaving little room for Peter to maneuver. It was only a matter of seconds after I spotted him that his shield was knocked from his hand.

"Come on, Philip!" I jerked his head around so violently that I probably hurt him. I'd have to apologize for that later.

Fortunately my horse understood the situation as soon as he turned and he began to canter as fast as he could to my brother.

Peter kept his arms in close, just as Oreius had taught us, while he valiantly kept the Minotaur's vicious blows away with his sword. But he didn't see the ankle-slicer* that was creeping up his horse's neck, ready to strike.

_Peter!_ I longed to call a warning, but I couldn't do so without distracting him from the Minotaur.

Philip reared while my gaze was still locked on my sibling and I barely managed to keep my seat. What on earth?

Then I saw the dwarf standing in our way, his fingers gripping an axe.

"Stupid dwarf!" It was out of my mouth before I could stop it, but I did not reflect on the stupidity of saying that. Philip came down, my sword went up, the dwarf's head went flying.

And in the moment it took to slay him, I glanced up and Peter was gone.

"No!"

Philip was far too bulky to get through the creatures that blocked our path to my brother, so I jumped off before I could reasonably think through my actions.

"King Edmund!" The horse cried.

I drew my dagger out with my left hand while still holding my sword in the right. These creatures hurt my brother and I would show no mercy.

"Gah!" A hag fell.

_Clang_. A wolf lost his head.

_Crunch_. Those disgusting ankle-slicers were crushed under foot.

A minotaur turned to face me, the very same one who'd attacked Peter. He bared his teeth, swinging his mace at my head.

I ducked and darted forward while he was still partially off-balance from his blow. His furry belly was exposed and I drove both of my swords into it as far as they would go.

He shrieked, dropping his weapon, one hand reaching for me.

I let go of my swords and backed up, narrowly missing being clawed as he fell. As soon as his back hit the floor, I ran up and jerked my weapons free, just in time to block a blow from another hag.

_Get out of my way!_ I wanted to scream.

The hag's eyes glistened with malice, as if she'd guessed the reason I was in such a hurry. Her staff swung at my legs and I barely managed to jump over it, but as I did, I caught a glimpse of Cyndir.

"Cyndir!" I called as I stabbed at the hag. "Peter!"

The tiger understood at once and snaked his way through the crowd to where my brother was last seen. The dark creatures were much more afraid of the dangerous cat than they were of a human boy and I knew that he would get there much faster than I. While this did little to comfort me, at least I knew someone was going to help Peter.

The hag was beginning to annoy me. Every time I got in close enough to get in a strike, she darted away and appeared from another side, staff swinging. She jumped back again and this time I tracked her movements carefully to the right. Just when she started to move in again, I whirled around and threw my dagger at her as hard as I could.

Much to my satisfaction, it sank into her chest. This time I didn't go to retrieve it, but pressed onward again, determined to reach my brother.

His horse was not far now and I thought I caught a glimpse of Cyndir near the ground. I forced my way through just as the tiger took down another dwarf.

"How is he?" I shouted.

"I do not think he is seriously injured, but I've not yet had a chance to examine him carefully," the tiger responded in hurried tones as he turned to another enemy.

I scrambled forward, keeping a wary eye on my surroundings as I knelt beside Peter. Though he was quite pale and the right side of his face was turning an ugly shade of purple, he didn't seem to be having any trouble breathing and he had no wounds that I could see.

"How is he?" Another voice asked.

My gaze jerked up in time to see Alec making his way to us. My lip curled in distaste, but I knew he genuinely cared about my brother so I set my personal qualms with the dwarf aside to answer. "I think he'll be fine. Looks like he just took a bad knock to the head."

"Should I send for Queen Lucy?" His dark eyes examined Peter with worry.

I huffed. Did he not hear what I just said? "No, that won't be necessary."

He looked at me in resentment.

But I had no further time to address his concerns for I saw a harpy sneaking up on him. "Watch out!"

The dwarf turned to deal with the enemy and was soon lost in the crowd again.

"Ullia!" I called a nearby centaur.

"Sire!" She came up to me and, though she looked concerned at seeing Peter in his current state, she patiently awaited my orders.

"Take Peter out of here and gather together a small party to protect him. He's not terribly injured but he can't afford to stay here."

The centaur was already scooping him up in her arms and within moments, she was gone along with her precious burden.

Though Peter was still a great concern of mine, at least I knew he was in safe hands now and I could concentrate on the battle with renewed vigor.

The battle seemed to be going fairly well for us overall, in spite of the fact that our enemy knew the terrain better than we did. We'd moved much farther into the valley since we'd started and no new enemies were springing upon us from the many rocks and crevices around us.

Several minutes later, a flash of red in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Few of our troops wore red, due to the many animals and other creatures who served in our army. Usually only us four royals wore the crimson color in battle. Could Peter have recovered already?

I turned to get a better view of the red-clad person and felt my heart squeeze painfully within me.

_Lucy!_

What was she doing here? She was supposed to be as far from the battle as she possibly could be, out of harm's way.

None of the enemy nor any of our troops appeared to have noticed her presence as she weaved her way behind rocks and boulders, trying to keep out of view. Her face was very pale, but she continued to come further into the valley, her eyes scanning the battlefield looking for...something.

Her eyes suddenly found mine and I saw her lips form my name, though her voice was lost in the din.

"Lucy! Get out of here!" I yelled back.

Her face registered confusion as she mouthed, _What?_

Due to her attention being solely focused on me, she didn't notice the hag sneaking up on her.

"Get down!" I ordered, motioning with my hands for her to hit the ground.

She didn't question me, but dropped, narrowly missing being stabbed by the hag. I saw her scrambling away while trying to draw her knife at the same moment and I knew I didn't have much time.

I ducked and moved forward, sidestepping many combatants, jumping over fallen soldiers, and avoiding conflict as much as I possibly could. Lucy wasn't far from me, thank Aslan, but it seemed that I was moving with agonizing slowness. I straightened up as I reached the place I had last seen my sister, but she was gone.

"Lucy! _Lucy!_" I winced at the desperation in my voice.

"Here!"

I whirled to the right and smiled as I saw her picking herself up off of the ground. Her trembling hand clutched her blood-stained dagger and at her feet, I saw the corpse of the hag.

_Peter is going to __kill__ me when he finds out about this_, I thought as I rushed over to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" she began.

"Never mind," I interrupted as I scanned our tumultuous surroundings. "We have to get you out of here."

I grabbed her hand and tugged her over to a nearby rider-less horse, quickly helping her up into the saddle before I climbed on behind her. Fortunately for us, we were near the edges of the battle so that it wasn't nearly so difficult to navigate our horse through the battle and out into conflict-free land. We galloped out of the valley into the level grass beyond it and, when I had judged that we were a safe distance from the battle, I brought the horse to a halt and dismounted.

Lucy made to follow me, but I put a hand on her arm to keep her from doing so. "What were you doing there?"

A few tears pricked her eyes as she shakily said, "I...I wouldn't have come. B-But Alec said Peter needed my cordial and th-that I should come as quickly as I could."

Anger flared up in me, hot and dark. That _dwarf_ deliberately disobeyed me and put my sister in danger because of his own insubordination.

Lucy must have seen the change in me, for a couple of tears fell down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ed. You...you're not angry with me, are you?"

"No." I tried to smile at her to convince her that I wasn't. "You did what you thought best, I cannot blame you for that. Now, take this horse and return to the archers."

She nodded, but before she set off, she asked, "Is Peter alright then?"

"He'll be fine." _Though I can't say the same for a certain dwarf_.

Relief spread over her face and she looked like she was going to speak again but something behind me attracted her attention.

I turned to see Cyndir coming up on us fast. Within moments, he was before us. "Sire, my Lady, the enemy has surrendered. The victory is ours."

_Thank you, Aslan_.

* * *

"He did _what?!_"

I never thought I had seen Peter so angry before. Apparently a minor concussion had no effect whatsoever upon his temper. He lay on his bed in Cair Paravel, fuming under the sheets as I related what had gone on during the battle.

_Perhaps I should have waited until later on to tell him_, I thought as I watched his face turn an impressive shade of red.

"I should have him...thrown out of the army! Whipped! Exiled!" Peter blustered, wincing as his head throbbed in time with his words.

_Yes, I should have waited_. "You're not thinking clearly, brother. There is no need for such drastic measures."

His mouth flapped for a moment before he sputtered, "No need? No _need?_ He deliberately disobeyed an order from one of his kings and endangered our royal sister's life, how can there possibly be _no need_ for drastic measures? There is no excuse for his behavior."

I let him rant for a few moments more before I quietly interjected, "He doesn't trust me, Peter, and, quite frankly, I don't blame him. It's hard to obey the orders of anyone you don't trust, particularly a person you regard as a traitor."

My brother's face took on a pained, sober expression. "But...but Edmund, you're not like that anymore."

"I know that and you know that, but it's going to take a while for some of our subjects to come to know that. I've accepted this."

He sighed. "I wish I could make everyone trust you as I do."

I smiled. "Of course you do, you want to fix all the world's problems. But since that isn't an option, we have to do what we can with what we have. Let me talk to Alec, perhaps if we had settled our differences earlier, we wouldn't be in this position now."

Peter regarded me in silence for a moment, before he gave a slow nod. "Very well, if that is what you wish."

"It is."

* * *

I waited in my study for the dwarf's arrival, contemplating what I would say to him. _I mustn't be too hard on him, but I must let him know that what he's done is wrong. Bother, I wonder if this is how parents feel?_

A sharp knock sounded on the door and I straightened up in my chair. "Enter."

Alec came shuffling in, his head bowed, face sullen. A couple of guards followed behind him, but I motioned to them. "Leave us, I wish to speak to him alone."

They bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind them.

Silence settled thick over the room as I stared at the dwarf who was stubbornly refusing to come any close to me than he had been brought.

"Alec, please have a seat." I gestured to one of the chairs in front of my desk.

The dwarf sulkily trudged over to one of the chairs and sat down in it without saying a word.

I waited for him to look me in the eyes, but when he refused to lift his head, I began, "Alec, you willfully disobeyed one of my orders during a battle and needlessly endangered Queen Lucy's life, what have you to say for yourself?"

He finally showed some hint of regret when I mentioned Lucy, but aside from a slight wince, he was rather stoic. "I meant no danger to the queen, sire, and for that, I most humbly do apologize."

"And yet you are not sorry for disobeying me?"

He was silent.

"Just as I thought. I perceive you have a deep loyalty to my siblings and it is because I believe you acted out of concern for my brother's safety that I have decided not to punish you."

The dwarf's eyes shot up in surprise. "Wh-What?"

I leaned forward. "I know you don't trust me and, granted, I haven't been the most trustworthy of people in the past. But Aslan gave me a second chance, a chance to start over and become a better person than I have been. I'm trying to give you that same chance to start over as well. Trust is a difficult thing to build. I understand that more day by day...I guess what I am trying to say is, will you give me the same chance I am giving you?"

Alec stared at me in something akin to astonishment. "I...I...I will, sire."

I smiled. "Good."

"Th-Thank you, sire." He staggered up to his feet, moved around to my side of the desk, and knelt down before me. "Thank you."

I was far too surprised to say much in return, but I managed to stutter out, "You're welcome."

_And, though I can't say Alec and I got along from that time forward, we did strike up a tentative friendship and eventually learned to respect one another._

* * *

Caspian thoughtfully laid aside Edmund's last page on the table next to him. He pondered the entry as he stared at the library he was currently sitting in, until his eyes landed on Trumpkin.

The dwarf was sitting across from him, ponderously making his way through a thick volume of Narnian history.

"Are all dwarves born with an inordinate amount of stubbornness?" The question was out of his mouth before he could think to stop it.

Trumpkin looked up at him without batting an eye and responded, "Are all humans born with an inordinate amount of stupidity?"

Caspian laughed.

The dwarf eyed the parchment in his king's hand with distrust. "What makes you ask such a question? Are those Pevensies misrepresenting us?"

"Not at all," he replied loftily as he handed Edmund's entry to him. "You can read about it if you like."

Trumpkin took the pages from him and started scanning the first few lines. A mutter escaped him, "I thought Edmund liked us...."

"What was that?" Caspian smirked.

"Nothing," his companion huffed.

The king smiled and turned back to the rest of the journals.

_I must say, it __is__ a disadvantage to be the youngest Pevensie in Narnia. Without Mum and Dad here, I have three parents instead of two due to my overprotective siblings. It is very hard to convince them that I am capable of doing anything of importance without their help..._

* * *

*I borrowed ankle-slicers from the first Narnia movie....they're those tiny little creatures with sharp arms that slice up the rhino's legs when he charges with Oreius to save Peter.

Thank you all again for your patience and your support. I greatly appreciate it. God bless!


End file.
